


Tim Confuses Kon

by etre



Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash, Tim is a troll
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-15
Updated: 2012-12-15
Packaged: 2017-11-21 05:04:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/593741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etre/pseuds/etre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A couple of unrelated stories about Tim and Kon, cuddle pollen, and dogs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cuddle Pollen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jet/gifts).



> This was written as a birthday present for Jet, who prompted "cuddle pollen."

Kon ran into Tim as he ascended the stairs in Titans Tower. Literally, ran into. Kon was floating up the steps, contemplating the creepy lab he knew was in the basement and its sordid history, when he collided with Tim, who was descending the stairs, no doubt on the way to the creepy lab. Tim yelped and fell backwards, dropping the small vial he had been carrying. Kon was unmoved by the collision, but he did drop to the ground in surprise, bending over to try and help Tim up. He was more alarmed that Tim hadn’t noticed him coming than anything else. Maybe the cowl was impeding his vision.

“Oh man, sorry! I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going...” He trailed off, as Tim seemed to be ignoring him. Tim was hurriedly pulling a rebreather out of his belt, warning, “Try not to breathe, Kon. I only have one of these, and I think the vial broke.” Kon wasn’t particularly worried. The likelihood that whatever was in that vial could hurt him was slim to none.  
Still, he examined the staircase, looking for the vial. Sure enough, it had cracked, and a tiny amount of powder seemed to have spilled on the stairs. 

“Sorry, man,” he apologized again, sheepishly, as he used his TTK to shove the powder back into the vial.  
Tim leveled him with a Look through the cowl and spoke around his rebreather. “Bring that down to the lab for me. Don’t let any more spill.”  
Kon dutifully carried the vial with his TTK, following Tim back into the basement and through the door to the creepy lab. He watched as Tim prepared a containment chamber and indicated that he place the vial within. He floated the vial over carefully, lowering it slowly into the chamber, which Tim then sealed. Tim let out a deep breath, then turned to face Kon, taking the rebreather out of his mouth. 

“Please go back out to the stairs and make sure you didn’t miss any powder. At all. I’m going to try and salvage what I can from this sample for analysis.” Tim was speaking in his flat Red Robin voice, which sort of scared Kon, so he hurried to obey.  
As he reached the lab door, though, a thought occurred to him and he turned back to Tim.  
“What was in there, anyway? Was it a weird Gotham chemical? Am I gonna turn crazy if I inhale it? ...Are you gonna turn crazy if you inhale it?” He felt this last one was a particularly relevant question. 

Without turning to look at him, Tim answered, “I’m not sure yet. Yes, it came from Gotham, but I doubt it would have any effect on you. And I put the rebreather on fast enough that it shouldn’t have any effect on me, either. Now. The stairs, please.”

Kon shrugged and went back to inspect the staircase. Finding nothing, not even a tiny speck of weird, unknown chemical, he floated back to the lab. Tim was still bent over the workbench, posture unreadable through his bat cape. Kon floated closer, and Tim gripped the edge of the table.  
As Kon got closer, he noticed that Tim didn’t seem to be “analyzing the sample” like he’d said. Instead, he was sort of hunched over the lab bench. His heart was pounding, too. Concerned, Kon dropped the few inches back to the floor and walked over.  
“Tim? You okay?” he frowned. Tim’s knuckles went white. “Tim? Dude? You’re freaking me out.” He reached out to touch Tim’s shoulder, but Tim flinched away.

“I don’t think you should be here right now. Please leave,” Tim rasped, his voice tight. Kon grabbed his shoulder and turned Tim forcibly to face him.

“What’s wrong? Is it the stuff from the vial?”

“I... don’t know.” Tim was clenching his eyes shut under his cowl. Kon didn’t let go. 

“Just tell me what to do, man! Tim!” Kon was getting worried, but he didn’t want to leave Tim alone to get help. Tim was frozen in place, muscles tense as he visibly restrained himself in Kon’s grip. Kon placed his other hand on Tim’s shoulder, staring at him, waiting for him to speak, move – anything.

A moment later, Tim finally broke, throwing himself at Kon’s chest with a gasp.  
“Conner!” he cried, pressing his face into Kon’s S-shield and gripping the shirt tightly. Kon patted his back awkwardly, reminded of a similar incident on the rooftops of Gotham. Tim hadn’t been under the effects of a drug, then, though. Or at least, he didn’t think so...

Kon was starting to panic. He ran through a mental checklist of vital signs, checking Tim’s heart rate, breathing – whatever he could think of. Breathing and pulse rate elevated, but not to dangerous levels. 

Relieved, he indulged Tim for a minute, feeling the smoothness of the cape under his hands as he put his arms around Tim. He’d only really hugged Tim the once before, not counting the times he’d acted as Tim’s personal escort service. He was still worried, but Tim didn’t seem to be on the verge of hyperventilating anymore, so Kon pulled back a little, trying to see Tim’s face. 

The moment he moved though, Tim gasped again, clutching Kon tighter.  
“Don’t go...” he whispered, pressing his face against Kon’s shirt. Kon put his arms back around Tim and sighed. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.” So saying, he wrapped his TTK around Tim and lifted them both into the air, moving slowly so that Tim wouldn’t notice their movement. Since Tim seemed content to try and suffocate himself with Kon’s shirt, Kon picked up the pace a little as he exited the lab and headed towards the basement communicator.

Who could he call? Most of the other Titans weren’t around right now, and there was no way he was calling the Bat. Next best option would do.  
He pushed the code for the Bats’ private network. “Nightwing? Are you there?”

“This is Oracle,” a mechanized voice responded. “Do you need help?”

“Uh... yeah,” Kon said hesitantly. Mechanized voices on the Bat network were probably trustworthy. “It’s Red Robin. I think he inhaled some sort of chemical. He said he brought it from Gotham, but I don’t know what it was.”

“What sort of symptoms is he presenting? Is it an emergency?” The voice was crisp and concise through the speakers. 

“I don’t think it’s life-threatening. He’s just sort of... clinging to me. He seems to have trouble breathing when he lets go, but other than that there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with him.”

“Okay, hang tight. I’ll send Nightwing over right away.”

“Thanks. Does Nightwing have an antidote or something? Do I need to do anything in the meantime? Are you sure it wouldn’t be faster for me to fly him to Gotham?” Kon could hear the worry creeping into his own voice.

“Nightwing will bring something to calm him down. Since we don’t know what the chemical is, we can’t counteract it yet. Just sit down with him, and don’t let go of Red Robin if it distresses him. Don’t leave the room you’re in, either. We don’t want to risk spreading any contamination. Nightwing has the security codes for the Tower, so he’ll come find you. Just stay put.”

“Okay. Thanks again, Oracle.”

“Good luck, Superboy.” He cut the connection and floated himself and Tim over to the couch in their basement common room.

“Hey, Tim. Can you speak?”

Tim nodded against his chest, and pulled his face away from Kon with an effort. “Yeah. I just... I can’t let you go.” Tim’s voice was getting tight again, so Kon gently pushed his head back down. 

“Okay. Whatever you need, Tim, I’m here. Do you want to take off your cowl or cape or anything? They seem sort of uncomfortable.”

Tim nodded and let go of Kon’s shirt briefly to tug his cowl down. “That’s better.”

“Do you wanna sit down?” Tim nodded again, so Kon sat on the couch, pulling Tim down with him, onto his lap. “Uh... is this comfortable? For you?” he asked, tentatively. Tim’s bony hips were sort of digging into his thighs, but he didn’t want to say anything to influence Tim. 

Tim, however, being Tim, even when compromised by drugs, could tell what he meant. “I can move. Just... gimme a second?” Kon nodded, and Tim took a deep breath and pushed himself off of Kon’s lap and onto the couch next to him, letting go only to re-position his arms. Kon draped an arm over Tim’s shoulder, pulling him close, and Tim wrapped both arms around Kon’s torso, leaning into him. 

“You don’t feel weird or anything, right? I mean, other than the clingy part. No other effects?” Tim shook his head, relaxing against Kon’s side.

“This feels nice...” Tim trailed off, closing his eyes. Within a minute, Kon could hear Tim’s breathing and heart rate even out. He was asleep.

Kon let out a breath and tightened his arm around Tim. Now that he knew Tim wasn’t dying, having Tim pressed against him felt sort of nice. Tim was... soft. Human. Vulnerable. Warm. Kon’s eyes drooped, lulled by Tim’s warmth against his side. He could get used to this, he thought, drifting to sleep himself.


	2. Dogs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Krypto doesn't like books.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story has absolutely no point.

“Your dog ate your library book.” The words are spoken in a flat, emotionless tone, but Kon knows Tim is judging him. He can just tell. Tim’s mask hides his eyes, but Kon knows him well enough by now to know that even though he expresses no emotion, he’s definitely feeling _something_.

The problem is, he isn’t sure if that something is amusement or anger this time.

“Uh... yeah. You know how Krypto can get.” Kon laughs nervously. Shit, Tim is going to _kill_ him. That mask is no doubt hiding fathomless rage right now. Cause, see, the library book hadn’t exactly been _Kon’s_ library book.  
It had been Tim’s.  
And now he was in for it.

“No, I don’t ‘know how Krypto can get,’ actually. Why don’t you enlighten me as to how it is that a Kryptonian super-dog, with intelligence rivalling that of a human’s, can _accidentally_ destroy other people’s harmless property?” He asked, voice still expressionless, but Kon figured that Tim must be pretty angry now. 

“Uh... I think... well, you know how the book was about, like, military history?” (Kon had borrowed it cause he liked learning about old wars and seeing how history repeated itself.) Tim nods. Kon scratches the back of his neck sheepishly.  
“Well, I think Krypto saw some of the pages I left it open on and got... upset? or something? ‘Cause of some of the pictures in it.” It’s more of a question than an explanation, because truthfully Kon has no idea why Krypto had decided to destroy Tim’s library book. Kon thinks the pictures might have involved dogs in the military.

Tim narrows his eyes behind the mask. “A likely story.”

“Hey, man! I’m not lying!” Kon protests indignantly. 

“Do you have any proof?”

“I’ve got a book covered in bite marks, man. What other proof do you need?”

“Maybe you should let me speak to Krypto.” Tim’s smirking now. Is he making fun of Kon? 

“Speak... to Krypto?” Kon looks at Tim like maybe he’d just suggested that they go out on the town and do the tango. “Dude, are you making fun of me?” His worry transforms into hopefulness. Maybe Tim won’t kill him for this after all.

“No. Well, I’ll take your word for it this time; you don’t need to call Krypto,” Tim says, like he’s doing Kon a favor. Kon is really confused.  
“But you owe me $100. The library charges for damaged books.”


End file.
